Giving Hostages to Fortune
by tearsofphoenix
Summary: After the events in Hogsmeade recounted in my fan fiction "Homecoming", Severus and Hermione face further challenges and commitments, moving further on. Now COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Giving Hostages to Fortune**

By tearsofphoenix

Standard disclaimer applies – it's all JKR's

_This is a further step in the universe that started with "Just one more time", and it follows the events of my last instalment, "Homecoming";__ this one is very much related to it._

_Many thanks to my patient previewer Lady Memory and to my wonderful editor Whitehound, who suggested this continuation by giving me some ideas for the plot and corrected it with special care, as ever._

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"Very well, Miss Granger; now, with this…" Madam Griselda said, pointing at the parchment that she had just sealed with a flick of her wand. "I'm sure that you'll be accepted at the Ministry in whatever branch of the law you'll decide to apply for."

Radiant with joy at the praise from the old witch, Hermione whispered her thanks, and took the document that attested to the successful end of her training and her competence in Wizarding laws and codes.

Having retired from the Wizengamot some years ago, yet still not feeling ready to enjoy a deserved rest, Madam Marchbanks now dedicated herself to mentoring promising students: the charge she had left during Umbridge's interregnum didn't appeal to her as much as helping these youngsters grow into mature, efficient professionals. And the girl in front of her was one of the most gifted.

So she smiled at Hermione, her wrinkled face betraying her inner pleasure, then continued her speech.

"You'll do well, Hermione. I'm very glad to know that someone like you will soon take on the many tasks that I was forced to leave behind. Don't hesitate to ask me for further advice, should you be in need of it."

Touched by those words addressed to her in such an encouraging way by the formidable old witch, the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, Hermione felt the urge to hug the woman and, in a rush, she did it.

Then she went away quite rapidly, wishing to leave before embarrassing them both with tears and, above all, dying to tell everything to Severus.

Out of the old house, almost running towards the Apparition point from which she would reach him, she didn't notice the young man who was following her steps from not very far off.

With a quick move, she Disapparated and, after landing at the opposite side of London, she couldn't restrain anymore her longing to be inside, into the house that from now on could, eventually, really become _their_ home.

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"You won't believe who I met today…" Hermione announced some days later, entering his new house and addressing Snape straightway with her characteristic spontaneity.

He looked at her with an amused smile, lifting his gaze from his work to assess her appearance, still not completely used to such impetuosity. His reaction changed immediately however, as soon as he noticed the shadow that dimmed the brightness in her eyes.

"I could have never guessed that I would see him again, and never like this, not in a million years!" she continued, throwing her bag on the couch and sitting worried in front of him.

Snape, who had been putting some books in order on the new shelves, quit that job and joined her, moving her hand aside from her forehead and looking at her in concern.

"I was just leaving the office, you know, and then he called me, but at first I couldn't even recognize his face!" she burst out and sighed. "I hadn't seen him for years, but it couldn't be just the passage of time which has changed his features so much!"

"Hermione," Snape interrupted her. "Calm down. Breath. Who, for Circe's sake, are you talking about?"

"He was one of your students Severus; he was Baddock, Malcolm Baddock, do you remember him?"

"I do remember him very well, of course… but I admit that the fact that _you_ know and remember one of my Slytherins _is_ something remarkable," he answered, showing complete attention in spite of his taunting tone, and clearly waiting for an explanation.

"Well, he started school in my fourth year and, you know, that was a very special time… at some point, there was a sort of unity between the Houses… after all, we shared the goal of winning the Tournament together as a school, rather than just every House fighting for the Cup as usual… So, I remember I spoke a few times with him, too. I didn't mind the fact that he was a first-year, of course, and he didn't mind me being a Gryffindor and a Muggle-born…"

"Yes, I'm sure that during your Spew campaign you went around approaching not just Gryffindors but every decent, kind student in the school, and he was one, I can give you that," he replied, still disconcerted.

"It was S.P.E.W.! How do you know what I… Oh, never mind!" she continued, shrugging in exasperation. "And, for Merlin's sake, let's not change the subject now… even though it's true, at that time my concern was mainly with the way the rights of house-elves were being neglected."

"Will you tell me", he urged her with some impatience "and possibly today, why this encounter has upset you so much?"

"Do you remember New Year's Eve?" she asked, apparently not affected by his light sarcasm, but concentrating on her distress.

This time he thought better than to answer with a further "of course" to her question. He was more than certain that she couldn't even begin to suppose that either of them could forget the fateful night in which an impending danger had made them so close to lose each other and, as a consequence, had reinforced their bond so deeply.

Absorbed in that memory, he didn't initially realise the further change of topic that her words seemed to introduce. He just nodded, and put a hand on her hands that were still clasped on her lap, wordlessly encouraging her to talk. He was eager but also dreading to know what Hermione's current worries had to do with the events of that night in Hogsmeade, where the lives of the merry people who were celebrating the feast had been threatened by the sudden presence of werewolves.

"It was he who firstly recognized me in the middle of the Atrium," she began to say. "He told me he had heard of us… me and you together, I mean, and he sent his best wishes to you. He looked so shabby and miserable, Severus… I simply had to ask how he was," she murmured, unable to conceal the sadness and compassion in her voice.

"He didn't answer or say anything else, just turned and left with a sad smile, and I couldn't find the words to stop him."

"But I couldn't let go of what I sensed. I had the strong feeling that there was something dreadful going on with him, so I looked for one of the young witches at Reception. Well, she was reluctant at the beginning, but finally she told me that he was there for his monthly signing-on, because… because he too, during the last war, had been bitten and turned into a werewolf", she ended in a whisper, without averting her eyes from his stunned, finally understanding gaze.

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It didn't matter for how long Snape had been separated from his previous existence, nor how many times he had repeated to himself that he wasn't missing that time at all, nurturing his detachment with the certitude created by his bitter memories. He was still proud of his being part of the Magical World, of his belonging to it.

So, reaching the very core of its activity, he felt a sensation not very dissimilar from the one he had experienced during his first trip to Diagon Alley, when he was a student, and a completely different world had opened itself to him.

And, as in those former days, he almost savoured the vitality around him, the changes made since Voldemort's period of terror, the bustle, the complete immersion in it… He covered the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic with long strides, reverting to old habits of projecting self-confidence, without slowing down to look at the fireplaces and at the people continually emerging from the green flames.

He wasn't even aware of his mood and appearance, nor was he aware of the contrast with his less appealing experiences on first becoming re-aquainted with this world. He was aware only of the important purpose guiding his steps.

By doing so, in fact, he was resuming his teaching persona, with all the self-assurance and the protective meaning this role had always carried for him. Only someone who had known him very well in those earlier days could perceive the coexisting feeling of inadequacy disguised under his coolness… but such a person probably didn't exist, since nobody had ever felt the need to observe his actions that carefully in those former times.

Severus went straight to the lift, and quickly reached the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. There he asked the welcoming witch at the reception desk about the appointment he had applied for, after Hermione's revelation.

Too engaged in settling their future, the new house in Islington and his venture as Master Apothecary, he hadn't yet started to investigate or to offer his help to those unfortunates whose destiny had moved him to compassion some months ago, after the discovery of their existence… but, hearing of that boy, one of _his_ students, involved in that horror, he had resolved not to wait another minute, but to at once find out more about the whole situation.

What he already knew, from reading newspaper reports about how these youngsters were being registered for proper care and control, was no longer sufficient.

"I'm sure the Department Head must be waiting for me," Snape offered after some minutes of hanging around, watching with a glint of irritation the young witch who had greeted him, and who was still fumbling with papers, as if searching for the record of said appointment.

She smiled blankly at that remark and said nothing. Slightly annoyed, Snape resigned himself to wait for the call from that meticulous secretary, and examined in his mind the speech that he would give shortly afterwards.

"Come in," a voice finally called from the next room, and, without deigning to give the witch of a further glance, Severus followed its invitation.

"Snape," greeted the wizard sat behind the desk.

"Mr. Diggory," Severus answered, and though quite irritated by such a curt greeting, he felt a sudden qualm in front of the man whose tragedy had suddenly come to his mind, reminder of a past that couldn't be forgotten. So, he continued respectfully, "Thank you for receiving me at such short notice."

Amos Diggory, Head of the Department, absently stroked his beard and showed a polite interest.

"The distressing situation of those young werewolves who were infected during the last war, and who are currently under the care of your Department, has recently come to my attention," Snape began.

The other man didn't reply, so he went on.

"Having taught nearly all of these young people before they suffered this terrible transformation, and having been house-master to several of them, you will understand that I feel some responsibility for their futures and their well-being. Plus, since I'm already brewing potions for St Mungo's apothecary and several others, I could provide effective help to these former students if required.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you could inform me as to the measures you have taken up till now to assist them and ensure their care."

Beginning to feel uneasy under the other wizard's cold stare and prolonged silence, Snape paused for a moment, waiting for Diggory's reaction. Then, seeing that there wasn't any, except the dismissive way in which the other man seemed to listen, Snape mustered his will and once more resumed his speech, hiding the irritation that was beginning to mount inside him.

"During the time in which Remus Lupin was teaching at Hogwarts, I brewed Wolfsbane appositely for him. He had no independent source for it, so I wonder how and if it is supplied to the young people you have in your charge here…"

His jaws tightened in spite of his resolution to keep his anger under control. "And there is another thing that I'd like to know: you _are_ giving it to these people on a regular basis, are you not?"

This time the other man spoke, though not answering Snape's question in any effective way.

"Hogwarts! Yes, surely… the perfect place to protect young people."

Snape stayed silent, unable to find something adequate to counteract those bitter words behind which lay undeniable truth.

"You should have contacted our Support Services, the Being Division then, not my office. We only take care of the beastly side of the matter, as I'm sure that even one of your first year students knows…"

Feeling the heat rise to his face in an outraged reaction, Snape was ready to answer that those Services had redirected him to _this_ Department, since it was the one that headed the two co-working branches. Once more, however, he was able to manage his feelings, considering not just what was at stake but also the man in front of him, whose losses and consequent sourness he could understand.

But his sudden glare and blush had anyway sent the right message to Amos Diggory, because the man went on speaking with a less resentful tone.

"…Werewolves are dangerous: furthermore, not all of them are under control and, after the registration and the diagnostic tests at St Mungo's, many of them prefer to stay away with their pack rather than undergoing regular monitoring by coming here."

"So", he continued with a meaningful glance, "we are redirecting the registered werewolves to our Support Services, where those who want to keep living among wizarding communities rather than hiding in the wild places are then directed to Apothecaries or to other authorised potion makers who can brew Wolfsbane for them. But, since not all of them agree with these options, and considering that the potion is quite expensive, no, we are not administering it on a regular basis. Perhaps you wish to be added to the list of authorised suppliers, then?"

Snape was still struggling to control his increasing temper for the mission's sake but, hearing that last question, he couldn't refrain from making a snappy reply.

"Trust me, Sir, when I say that I've all the experience necessary to know what dangers to expect when approaching a werewolf. However, given the current situation, I'd prefer contacting my students without your assistance."

The other wizard raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue.

"Speaking of lists, anyway, may I see the one concerning these unfortunate young wizards?" Snape ended, hoping that there were no objections to that.

"It isn't a secret," Amos Diggory answered shrugging, then he called his secretary and told her to prepare a copy of it.

Snape didn't know whether permission and data were given to him thanks to some weird exception to the usual ministry's policies, or if the freedom allowed to him was just due to the poor level of care of the Department. But, whatever the reasons were, it suited his purposes to proceed without bureaucratic restraints, so Snape kept silent, waiting.

Then, just when he was leaving and already approaching the door, the parchment gripped in his hand, Amos Diggory spoke again.

"Some of those students should still be at school, shouldn't they? But, of course, this is an irrelevant detail, isn't it, _Headmaster_?"

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to be continued…

A.N. _During the Sorting Feast in GoF Malcolm Baddock, less than a cameo, is perceived by Harry like this:_ "Harry could see Malfoy clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins. Harry wondered whether Baddock knew that Slytherin house had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down."

_The section breaks are borrowed, as in the previous stories that form this little series, from: www. whitehound. co. uk/Fanfic/ffn_how-to. htm (remember to remove the spaces after the dots)._


	2. Chapter 2

Giving Hostages to Fortune

By tearsofphoenix

Standard disclaimer applies – it's all JKR's

_Many thanks to my kind previewer Lady Memory and to my wonderful editor Whitehound, who suggested this continuation by giving me some ideas for the plot and corrected it with special care, as ever._

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The residence wasn't hidden from Muggles, nor was it Unplottable.

There were wards, of course, but when she and Severus had decided to search for his new house - the one that would be "theirs" soon - Hermione had made a strong point about the fact that, in the future, her mum and dad should always be able to visit them if they wished, even without announcing their intention earlier to be sure of being allowed into a magic place.

After the slow reconciliation with her parents, in whose home Hermione was now living since she had ended University, she was in fact very careful to avoid causes for disagreements or new disappointments.

The house was a nice building, not too big, and for some weeks they had been making a start on arranging it, bringing there from Spinner's End everything he wanted to keep, some new furniture and a few items that they had chosen together recently.

Hermione went there almost daily, after work, and they had dinner together, made further improvements or new plans.

This time though, she knew that he had gone searching for information on his former student's condition, so she hastened to reach him and hear the news.

As soon as she arrived, she heard him call her name from the bedroom, so she immediately joined him there, hurrying on up the stairs.

He was packing, and she stopped at that sight, suddenly puzzled.

Looking up at her disconcerted stare, he explained curtly, "I've been told of Baddock's whereabouts, so I'm going to see how he's faring".

He hadn't stopped inserting his items in a rucksack, and Hermione joined him, touching his forearm in a mute question.

He sighed.

"I need to know, Hermione, how he is managing, if he is able to... During that miserable year as Headmaster, I was quite unable to give advice, tutoring and proper teaching to the students. I must at least give this a try. I feel especially at fault towards my Slytherins, for the way my conduct misled their minds. I must know when, how, why he was caught…"

Still speechless, she sat heavily on the bed on which he had gathered some clothes and the few other things he would need for his trip. She would have liked to comfort him and to tell him that it wasn't all his fault. But too many times already he hadn't listened to her reasoning, going on with his own conviction on this particular painful subject, and somehow, she felt unable to find the right thing to say.

Instead, she asked him more about his intentions.

"Are you planning to stay away for some time? Why? I don't understand, Severus. If you know where he is, wouldn't a short visit be enough as a start?"

He watched her. Behind her hurried questions and worried look, he perceived a concern to which he was still unused, so he let go of what he was holding and joined her, grateful for her affection.

"It won't be just a courtesy visit, obviously… and actually it won't be a short trip, since the boy's family lives in Wales, in Abergavenny; that's all I have to go on, and since they haven't rejected him, he's likely to be there. But perhaps he doesn't live with them anymore."

"In that case, you'll have to search for him," she concluded, acceptance and understanding in her tone.

He nodded: then, knowing that they wouldn't see each other for some days, he suddenly pulled her tightly into his arms and lingered in the embrace, relishing her lovely scent and whispering, "I'll also have to pay a visit to the school, Hermione. All this will take a few days, I suppose".

"Be careful when you meet him, Severus. And remember, always, that you have already made a difference to our world and to his safety, whatever may happen".

"Having fought one battle didn't ever stop you from engaging in fighting a new one, did it?" he replied quietly, knowing that she couldn't disagree on that.

His words somewhat cheered up the atmosphere, which had been beginning to become emotional, this being their first long parting since their engagement, and given the gravity of the situation.

She smiled feebly, then, and stood up.

"Well, that's true, of course. Let me see what you've collected and what you've forgotten - you're bound to have forgotten something. Do you ever do a list, before you start packing?" she commented, while emptying the rucksack and starting to check if he had put in everything necessary; then she began dividing the contents into small ordered piles with meticulous care, eventually succeeding, through such teasing and bossy behaviour, to conceal her worries.

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His steps had lead him toward the office: but now, feeling almost like a first year, Snape was pondering which kind of approach would best guarantee the success of his visit.

It was the second time he had come back to Hogwarts after his return in mainland Britain, and he had reached the door of his old house master's room without too much trouble, avoiding embarrassing meetings with the students

As for his other former colleagues, well, he had promised a visit to Minerva, later. He would do whatever was in his power to elicit collaboration, since he needed the help of the school to achieve his aim and purposes.

"Severus, my boy!" the elder wizard greeted him, gesturing with amiability to enter.

Snape returned the man's warm welcome with a light smile, and followed Slughorn into the centre of the room, where a comfortable couple of armchairs – a perfect sample of Slughorn's taste for comfort - were waiting near the fireplace.

"I'm here to ask you something, Horace," he then started. "Something that is related to your duties, not a personal favour, you understand".

"Do tell me your wishes, Severus, and be assured," the other man replied with his characteristic and naïve enthusiasm. "I'll do whatever I can to help you, the pride and the glory of our House!"

"Well, Slytherin House is precisely one side of the matter…" Snape went on, without changing his calm attitude, still unused to praise and all that aura of glory. "It has come to my attention that not all the students who decided not to fight in the Last Battle of Hogwarts were able to find a safe escape. I'm sure that you have heard of those young werewolves who have been captured and put under the Ministry's control recently…"

Slytherin to Slytherin, those words were enough to give the hint, so Slughorn's eyes widened in astonishment.

"Yes, Horace, among them there is certainly at least one of our students," Snape concluded, sighing, "I would like to know more about what happened that night, and I expect to hear everything from you."

"Of course, of course…" Slughorn murmured, clasping his hands in evident unease while remembering those tragic moments. "Well, our Slytherins were allowed to leave, and I remember that they left to go to Hogsmeade, to the Hog's Head. Miss Parkinson asked about you, by the way, before going; she seemed to seek for orders, directions... then chaos erupted, and it was difficult to discern friends from foes…" His eyes seemed to plead for understanding. "Who is the boy, Severus?"

"Malcolm Baddock. Probably not such a noticeable wizard that you remember him, I suppose," Snape answered, an unmistakable, even if polite, note of sarcasm in his choice of words, given the other man's soft spot for successful and remarkable students.

The elder wizard, instead, offered his recollections with a soft voice.

"He was always very proud of our colours, and I remember he was constantly present at the Quidditch pitch to encourage our team, even during training sessions… a nice young fellow".

"But no… I have no recollection of his movements during that night, I fear," he finally ended, awakening from his memories under Snape's gaze.

Severus had softened a bit listening to those affectionate words. He needed to enquire further, though.

"And, of course, those among the students who hadn't finished their studies, haven't been allowed to return[once they were registered as weres," Snape went on.

"It isn't our fault, Severus, those are the Ministry's rules!" exclaimed the other man. "You know Dumbledore was the only one able to keep this place out of their control".

"Yes, I remember that all too well," Snape concluded bitterly. "But, given that you too seem to care about the issue sincerely, there could be something that Hogwarts could do in the future…"

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"He wasn't there, and I couldn't find him, so I ended by speaking just with his mother, who was of course anguished and scared," were his first words to Hermione as soon as he was back.

A week had passed since Snape's departure, a week during which she too had investigated the matter, discovering that a lot had to be done to add the word "care" to the aims of a Department which should have lessened the misery of those unfortunate young werewolves, not just restrained them.

But, as she knew well and had personally experienced, danger from those creatures was always round the corner; furthermore, there wasn't a real cure, so it truly seemed very difficult to find a way to give them back at least some sort of a decent life…

"His mother told me that he wasn't there, as he had been called to his pack. Since the events of January, when their existence was revealed, they had parted and regrouped twice, somewhere in the woods, but she didn't know where. I tried to find out more, but it was useless," he ended bitterly.

Hermione had joined him as soon as she had received his owl but her joy had been quickly dampened on seeing how depressed he was. Now he was crossing the room with his nervous pace, unable to contain his feelings.

"There was a time when I would have agreed with the Ministry about making public safety the priority," he finally admitted, stopping to search for her eyes as if apologising. "But listening to the tale of that desperate woman has made me aware of the unfairness of the whole situation; and the fact that he has been turned into a beast is not the only horror… He hasn't completed his studies, he doesn't have a job and he will never have one, but he will always have to hide and stay in a safe site when the full moon rises. Furthermore, following in his mates' footsteps, he is not taking Wolfsbane from the Ministry's potion-makers… but that was predictable, of course! No one among them is able to brew the damned thing!" he erupted.

She stared at his angered eyes, searching for the right words to soothe his indignation, feeling a deep compassion and wishing to be able to help, but not knowing how. Severus perceived her dejection and, in a way, the shared woe helped him to re-focus his will and to regain his composure.

"I'll find a way to reach him… all of them, if I can. During my visit to Hogwarts, I asked Horace and Minerva to include the requisite ingredients in the school budget for their potions lab stores, so that we'll be able to give it to them free of charge. They both agreed that Hogwarts can at least do this for these young people."

Encouraged by the hopeful meaning implicit in those words, the young woman finally went to his side and allowed herself to show openly how much she had missed him during his absence… she had, in fact, hesitated to show her feelings when she first entered the room, seeing his darkened mood… whereas Severus, who had spent a lifetime quite alone, without anyone to be there for him every time he came back, hadn't even noticed the lack of a warmer welcome.

Eager to tell him everything which had happened since his leaving, yet unable to say more than two words with some sense now that she was finally so close to him, Hermione kissed Snape fiercely, before leaning softly against his chest.

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Nearly a month had passed.

The Heads of the Houses had kept their promises, and the young werewolves and their families had been informed about the possibility of receiving Wolfsbane at Hogwarts, as well as staying safely in a warded place in the Forbidden Forest during the time of their transformation.

In spite of that appealing offer, however, not many of the youngsters involved had presented themselves to receive the potion. And, as Snape kept repeating to Hermione, among those few who had there wasn't _that_ boy.

On her part, the girl had started her own campaign at the Ministry, after having ascertained just how slow and delaying were the procedures which had to be followed before recent discoveries could be divulged and made available for public use. Worse, not all the restrictive measures set in place during the tenures of Fudge and Umbridge had been repealed yet.

That morning, as every morning lately, Hermione was just setting out from her parent's house, ready for another day at work, but with her mind busy with different worries. Time had helped her to re-establish renewed trust and confidence with her mum and dad, now that she was staying at home again. That peaceful atmosphere had gone on for a while now, turning into a comfortable routine in which they all went to work, often met for lunch and then spent the evenings quietly, with Hermione often going out without giving too much explanation, serene about their trust in her wisdom since she had told them where she was going, adding some vague albeit reassuring words about whom she was seeing.

Recently however she had sensed a different spirit in her old home, and she was contemplating her uneasiness, and the many little things that had aroused that sensation. Some little details in particular had awakened her suspicions: for instance, those articles in feminine magazines, left open and in full view by her mother on the small table near the telly; those looks by her father when she left for dinner and, then, those not too subtle questions during the time in which she had been worried for Severus's absence, she being probably not very good at concealing her feelings…

Well, all those hints were enough to understand that her parents were concerned about the relationship in which she was involved and about which, she betted, they surely wished to know more.

Having almost arrived at her destination, just before turning the corner of the street that led to the entrance of the Ministry, Hermione decided to leave off pondering at least for the time being, while trying to concentrate on her tasks at work.

But her good intentions suddenly vanished when she unexpectedly found herself under the menace of a wand pointed at her chest: her eyes met the threatening glare of its owner and widened in surprise.

"Take me to the Professor," Malcolm Baddock hissed, a feverish gleam in his eyes, his voice trembling slightly.

"I'm on your side, you know," Hermione answered calmly, managing to keep her anxiety under control. "I'll accompany you willingly, and Severus will be very glad to finally meet you".

For a moment, the boy seemed unable to grasp the meaning of her words, then lowered his wand and followed her steps, now directed towards a destination opposite to the previous one that she had been so near to reaching.

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to be continued…

_The section breaks are borrowed, __as in the previous stories that form this little series, from: www. whitehound. co. uk/Fanfic/ffn_how-to. htm (remember to remove the spaces after the dots)._


	3. Chapter 3

Giving Hostages to Fortune

By tearsofphoenix

Standard disclaimer applies – it's all JKR's

_Many thanks to my kind previewer Lady Memory and to my wonderful editor Whitehound, who suggested this continuation by giving me some ideas for the plot and corrected it with special care, as ever._

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"They don't want to be wizards anymore! They're fed up with the magical world! The oldest in my pack is even thinking of turning himself into a werewolf at will, like Greyback did… and to hell with everything else! I feel like a traitor to both worlds, but I can't do that… and I don't know what to do anymore!" the boy cried.

Till that moment, Snape had been able to stay calm, despite the way in which Hermione and her companion had entered unexpectedly some minutes earlier.

He had initially felt surprise at seeing them – she, so early in the morning, and he, whom Severus hadn't seen for three years and for whom he had searched so much. But surprise had instantly turned into alarm: the boy seemed ill and on the verge of breaking down, while Hermione, frozen on the threshold, was looking at him through worried, frightened eyes.

"You did well, coming to me," Snape commented, his voice impossibly controlled and low. "I told your mother that I would be glad to give my help, if needed."

"I didn't know that," the boy went on, whimpering. "I don't go home anymore. I was terrified… my last transformation was even worse than the previous ones, the hunger seemed to be increasing and I was scared I could kill my whole family!"

"But then rumours reached the pack about your interest in us, about your visits to the Ministry and to Hogwarts… my mates didn't trust you or believe it was possible you could help us, but, well, I did, and hearing the news, I felt that I had to come here, and that you were my last chance," he ended, lowering his head in shame.

Regretful for the way in which he had approached her, the boy then shot a quick glance at Hermione, and his eyes widened, seeing how she was fighting back the tears that threatened to trickle.

Snape noticed the brief exchange too and, in a flurry, relived the many times in which he had been presented with a chance that seemed the last one available to him. He knew all too well how those chances had ended by turning against him, making a cruel difference to his destiny. And since wrong choices and forced ones had outnumbered the chances he had been offered to really start again, a deep empathy enfolded him.

It wasn't easy but he had to speak and to find the right words, though he was overwhelmed by his own emotion, by his old and new anguishes… but he had to give the boy at least a faint hope, along with the commitment he had already offered.

So, without even remarking, as he had it on the tip of his tongue to do, that the boy's behaviour - direct, harsh and lacking in subtlety as it had been - had been unworthy of the Slytherin he still was, Snape responded to that pleawith the same calm with which he had earlier greeted the boy.

"Yes, Malcolm," he started. "There is always a chance, and, actually, there are magical means that can help you live in a better way. Wolfsbane, above all. I suppose you haven't forgotten your studies completely, have you? So you need to try the effect on you of this potion, and more than once. And you'll need to take it, if you don't want to suffer dementia sooner than you can guess," he warned.

The boy nodded, still trembling and looking miserable.

"You must also owl your family: they'll surely be worried sick, not having heard from you for so long. We'll find you a place to stay, preferably one not far from here, so that we can monitor your progress. When you feel better, and only then, we'll search for your companions, and I guarantee that they will be convinced by the changes they'll see in you, no matter how dark their thoughts are at the moment."

"Yes, Sir," Baddock answered and, for the first time, his voice didn't quaver. To Hermione, who had been listening with deep concentration, his tone was reminiscent of the obedient attitude that students always used to keep in the classroom; it implied the conviction that doing something different from what Snape had asked wasn't even to be considered.

She looked at both wizards and, finally, a smile opened on her face.

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"We need to find a better way to administer the potion, something more long-lasting than the current one: maybe some charmed device that could release its power slowly and make it effective over a longer period, without the necessity of drinking it so many times and with the capacity to work even when the wizard isn't able to activate it himself," Snape explained.

Two months had passed, and although Wolfsbane had started to make some difference for the werewolves who had accepted and received it, some further events had made him even more determined to improve their situation.

"Since Damocles Belby's invention," Horace Slughorn answered, "no further improvements have been made to cure lycanthropy. It would be capital to do something like this! Order of Merlin, it would be worth, First Class and no less, Severus!"

No matter how often Horace seemed to consider only the advantages that one's actions would bring, or perhaps exactly because of that unconcealed cunning trait in his character, his old Head of House was still the person with whom Snape found it easiest to communicate or to evaluate what future steps needed to be taken.

"Of course I've got all my information from Baddock, who is the one whose situation I'm directly monitoring… he's staying in London, now, but he is still in touch with his pack, you know. The incident that happened to the youngest of them wouldn't have occurred if we had had such a device…"

Snape had just finished the tale of horror in which, after one of the wretched creatures had forgotten to take the potion – he was just a boy, he hadn't even started Hogwarts when he had been bitten! – the poor child had wandered madly through woods and fields, until the Aurors had been alerted by a frightened old witch who had become concerned after repeatedly hearing him in the area, and had made his capture possible.

Only his very young age had spared him from being executed… but such a possibility had ignited the fury of some of the elders in the pack, and reinforced the repressive policies at the Ministry, of course.

"We could ask Filius," Slughorn suggested. "I'll talk with him. He isn't new to charmed devices…"

"Good idea, Horace, even if we have still to decide what kind of device could be charmed… But we must go on trying. By making this improvement we'd give a major incentive to the still unregistered werewolves to come back to our world, since they wouldn't have to suffer the humiliation of submitting to controls nearly as often as at present," Snape acknowledged, accepting the goblet that the other man had offered to him.

"I've finally learned the circumstances in which Baddock was bitten, by the way," he added, and for a moment, he lost himself in his memories.

The confidence had actually been given to Hermione, and not to him. Nevertheless, it had been important for him to know the story of another hopeless, romantic Slytherin, and to hear it from her…

… _That day, Snape had entered the house later than usual, and had seen Malcolm and Hermione immersed in deep conversation, so engrossed by the object of their talk that, at first, they hadn't even noticed him. _

_Hermione's curls shone under the light of a sunray coming through the window; but her head, so near to the boy's, looked inevitably darker compared to his blond hair, as light as to resemble a soft white fur._

_Knowing everything of the boy's stages and times of transformation, Snape wasn't fearful of that closeness and, in fact, the similitude that had come his mind was an evidence of how much he had changed his point of view, away from the a sort of disgusted reaction he would once have had… he still felt afraid of the beast inside the man, as he couldn't help but do after the terrorising experience of his youth, but now it was a shared feeling, that included the other being's horror, not just his._

_And, in the same way, he hadn't felt jealous while looking at them, as the maternal attitude in which Hermione was behaving had raised utterly different feelings inside him. Instead, he had remembered the sight of that fur, the powerful semblance of the beast that had been revealed to him when he had observed the effects of the potion on Malcolm. Hidden in a safe place, Severus had been protected from a lethal attack, but not from the pain that such monstrous transformation carried in itself: the agonizing changes in the limbs, the growth of the claws and fangs that horrendously distorted Malcolm's features and, above all, that last, desperate spark of rationality dimming in the boy's eyes and showing his intense suffering. _

_Hermione had been the first to notice Snape's arrival, and her cheerful greeting and smile warmed him as always, renewing his sense of hope that he could succeed in his task, and giving him the will to go on with it._

_The boy stood up, slightly embarrassed: after his first visit, he had made it a point of honour to be less emotional in front of his former Professor and Headmaster, and to resume the old habits of self-control learnt during the moments shared at school._

_Understanding the boy's uneasiness, Snape had greeted the youngsters in a composed manner and exchanged some words with the boy. Reassured, Malcolm had left a few moments later._

_As soon as they were alone, and after a soft welcoming kiss, Hermione had repeated to Severus what she had just heard: the story of a boy who, a step before safety, had waited too long before leaving the battlefield, unable to leave until he had looked for the last time at the young Ravenclaw girl who had captured his heart. _

_The motherly way in which Hermione had comforted the boy moved Severus, as well as the tears he had noticed in her eyes. Being a Slytherin hadn't spared Malcolm from the cruel attack of Voldemort's beastly followers, and the girl was evidently sympathising with him. _

_She had always had such an attitude in her heart, and he knew it since the days in which she was going around with the two dunderheads she had chosen as her best friends… Amazed, he had just discovered though, that he could feel a similar kind of care and that perhaps he had always had it in himself, too… in spite of his long-time solitary existence, he_ had_ cared for, and protected, and helped his students._

_Acting for the sake of his Slytherins, he had felt ready to move on with his own life, throwing away old worries of inadequacy and feeling, for the first time in an age, less afflicted by his family's story, by the memories of those days in which he had suffered for the lack of caring parents… finally acknowledging the possibility to fulfil all of his expectations._

"Yes, we have to try harder until we succeed in making the cure permanent," Snape concluded, awakening from his reverie. "Then the next thing to be done will be to enable all of them to complete their studies. All of them, Horace," he repeated, looking firmly at his old friend.

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A/N: Thanks to all those who are going on reading this story. The final part of it is already written, and will be posted once it has been beta'ed.

Until then…reviews are most welcome!

The section breaks are borrowed, as in the previous stories that form this little series, from: www. whitehound. co. uk/Fanfic/ffn_how-to. htm (remember to remove the spaces after the dots).


	4. Chapter 4

Giving Hostages to Fortune ch. 4

By tearsofphoenix

Standard disclaimer applies – it's all JKR's

_Many thanks to my kind previewer Lady Memory and to my wonderful editor Whitehound, who suggested this continuation by giving me some ideas for the plot and corrected it with special care, as ever._

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"You should go and speak to the Minister, Hermione," the old witch declared.

The previous days had brought vital news, and the young woman had come back to her mentor, seeking advice about how to act on that information swiftly and effectively.

"I haven't spoken to Kingsley since the first Anniversary of the end of the war, Madam Griselda," Hermione answered, doubtful and a bit amused by the fact that the old witch was actually suggesting a direct attack, rather than giving advice on procedures.

"Well, so it isn't as if you have pestered him with too many visits or pleas for old time's sake, is it?" the other woman insisted. "And you can't possibly leave this task to your fiancé: he is already doing his fair share of all this, don't you think?"

Of course she couldn't leave this to Severus, Hermione silently agreed, remembering how exhausting the last weeks had been for both of them but especially for him, whose time had been filled by experiments, improvements, failures, heated discussions, further researches and all that had started after that fateful day…

…_After the last visit made by Severus __to Hogwarts he and Hermione had met every day after her work, dedicating their effort and time to evaluating the possible ways, the options they had at their disposal to improve the administration of Wolfsbane._

_That day too, after her arrival, she had asked him if there was any news regarding their project, starting as always their usual discussion, but he had abruptly changed the topic of their debate._

"_I've met your father," he announced. _

_Surprised, she looked at him with widened eyes._

"_How? When? Where?" she blurted out._

"_Well, he came here a couple of hours ago, looking for you," he said, cocking his head to stare at her with his typical, ironical expression. "It was mid-afternoon, and surely he knows that you are at work during that time… so I suppose that this was a subtle way to have a look at your mysterious 'boyfriend', as he defined me," Snape answered, skipping the explanation about the way in which, lowering his wards in acknowledgement, he had greeted the man who had presented himself at his door as Dr. William Granger._

_Waiting to hear the rest of the story she kept silent, puzzled by the fact that she couldn't detect the slightest hint of mockery in Severus' tone._

"_He's right, you know. We should have done this earlier, after you ended your studies and after having decided to set up this house… I felt quite ashamed for having delayed this meeting for so long."_

_Hermione blushed._

"_I'm sorry I didn't think to warn you, Severus: I should have known something like this would happen, but we were so wrapped up in our project that I wasn't paying attention… how did it go?" she ended, very curious now, and a bit anxious._

"_He started talking about the house in a very noncommittal way… and ended asking about me and my intentions," Snape replied, crossing his arms. "He was quite kind, I must say, though he could have been anything but. I know how_ I_ would feel if a daughter of mine were in love with someone like me!" he ended seriously, until he was betrayed by a light twitching at the corner of his mouth as he awaited her reaction._

_She huffed and, coming closer to him, commented in false exasperation, "One of those man to man moments, I see…"_

_Then, smirking, she continued with a mischievous spark in her eyes, "Wait and see. My mother's enquiries won't be so easy to endure, you have been warned."_

_Suddenly they both felt that their teasing could no longer mask how much things could change for them soon; and it couldn't come soon enough, given the way in which their gazes and their breaths and their whole beings melted into an embrace, searching for each other. _

_Later, relaxing in their closeness, she let her mind wander… it was true. These last weeks, they had given little thought to their plans for their future together, involved as they were in the fulfilment of their mission, and now she realised how much she had missed those moments with him. _

_And while she rested her head under his chin, enfolded by Severus's arms, her mind travelled even more, remembering her mother's magazines: the photos displaying wedding dresses, gorgeous hairstyles, fabulous ceremonies… and the articles about furniture, suggested honeymoon destinations, advice to young brides, even the latest contraceptive or cure for infertility…_

"_Severus!" she exclaimed, startling him and making him almost jump. "We must do it the Muggle way!" she declared, excited._

"_Right, well, as you wish… There's no need to make a fuss! We'll marry in whatever way you prefer, Hermione," he replied, a bit confused._

"_I wasn't talking about that!" she blurted out, following her train of thought. "I've found the solution for how to administer the cure!" _

_Silence fell for a moment, then they both spoke simultaneously, filled by two different emotions._

"Wait - erm, you were saying?"

"_What? What __do you mean?"_

They stared at each other, without answering. Then…

"_Do tell me," Snape said, after the longest of kisses had reassured him that his proposal had been welcomed and that he hadn't just made a fool of himself._

_And she explained, blaming herself for not having thought of such a solution earlier: in the Muggle world, there were ways to release medicines, contraceptives and so on gradually over a long period of time, by putting a small, perfectly bearable and compatible implant under the skin._

_So, in the following days they had worked on it, trying to identify the right dosage and release-speed, while asking the experts of both the magical and the Muggle world for collaboration. Finally a doctor, a friend of her parents, had been able to give them enough knowledge on the matter, without asking why they needed it…_

…Everything was ready to start administering the potion to all the werewolves through the implants, now, but at this point it was no longer something that they could do without the help and regulation of the Authorities.

Smiling in gratitude, Hermione nodded at Griselda Marchbanks' words, promising to keep her informed of every further development.

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"_This Year__'s Victory Celebration - A Historic Day!_" announced the headline of the _Daily Prophet_ in bold, screaming letters.

"_Be ready for a memorable date!_ _Next month, during the annual ceremony to celebrate the end of the war, the war heroes Severus Snape and Hermione Granger will be presented with an award by the Minister for their innovative discovery. _

_Thanks to their invention, our Ministry is promoting a project that will greatly reduce the continuing, imminent threat of werewolf attack. The new treatment will be administered at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites. Our readers will surely remember the many troublesome werewolf-related incidents since the end of the war; we are therefore certain that the importance of such a cure… Cont'd on pg 3_

_(for more on this topic see Scientific Experiments and Discoveries, pg 11)_

_(for more on the life and deeds of the two heroes see Magical Lives, pg 5)_

"Thank Merlin they didn't announce today's ceremony too," Hermione commented, after a quick check on the newspaper just arrived by owl. As ever that newspaper was embellishing everything with excess, she thought shaking her head, knowing that the menace wasn't completely vanished, since some of those werewolves persisted in choosing isolation… but she wouldn't worry about that, not today, of all days.

Now, given the interest raised by their invention, she was very happy that she and Severus had opted for a private ceremony – their license had been obtained immediately thanks to her mentor's good offices, allowing them the advantage of not divulging the date – so she discarded the paper without further worries.

Then she sighed, throwing away with her breath all the trepidation and emotions that were starting to overwhelm her heart; eagerly, she picked up her bouquet of white roses, smiled a joyous and hopeful smile and put her hand on her father's arm, looking fondly at her old house before definitely leaving it.

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Being almost ready and dressed for the ceremony, Severus Snape gave the rings to the boy.

"You look very handsome, Sir," Malcolm said, smiling.

The dark grey robes fitted him indeed, and the words of the young man in front of him weren't just flattery.

"Thank you, Mr. Baddock; I think that you can leave now. Please take care of those until the right moment comes," Snape answered, while smoothing his cuffs.

The boy, who looked totally changed, healthy and self-confident as he had become, nodded with a smile and bade his farewell, while Snape, despite the formal way in which he had spoken to conceal his emotion, looked at him with pride and affection. A strong link had been forged since the first day in which Malcolm Baddock had come to Snape's home, and the important role given to the boy during the imminent ceremony testified to the significance of the connection: both wizards had lived through their respective ordeals and, impossible as the fact sometimes seemed, both had done more than merely survive the threatening experiences… and they had shared more and more feelings of hope and safety, mirroring each other in their efforts.

Snape savoured the moment, alone.

It had the quality of momentous times.

After having spent so many years wearing the mask of death, he was now looking at the mirror in front of him and seeing a totally different display…

All through his life he had searched for a way to make sense of that life, and for the fulfilments that initially had seemed to be waiting for him in the years to come, but which in the event had been hidden from and denied to him for so long. He had hoped to find what had to await him in the fabulous world that his mother had revealed to him, during his childhood, vainly seeking for it among his schoolmates, but even the girl he had chosen and adored had refused him. And then, after his wrong, irreparable choice, afterwards when he was atoning for his sins, he had done everything in his power in a vain attempt to feel once more worthy of a life that he had to go on living, by giving all his devotion to the memory of his first unreciprocated love.

In the end, he had been so tired of all those failures that, when death had approached, he had almost welcomed it.

And then, unexpectedly, the challenge of living had started again.

He had slowly allowed the birth of new hopes, restraining himself just a little, for his old habit's sake, before ceding them victory: his soul so craved the embrace of such feelings that he hadn't persisted with the usual doubts or incredulities and, sooner than he expected, his attempts to defy happiness and love had failed, and he had abandoned himself to those sweet emotions. He had thus found answers and reasons to go on, Hermione's presence in his life becoming like the demarcation line for the end of his quest…

… until, lately, he had come to understand how his feelings were even greater than that shared love. His care for those former students had eventually revealed a dedication that had always been a part of him, and that had just needed the freedom to come out completely…

"_Thank you, Professor," __had been the boy's grateful words when he couldn't deny his renewed health anymore. "I knew that I was right in seeking your help and advice"._

The sensation of warmth in his chest, the proud look with which Severus had acknowledged Malcolm's praise and thanks… well, those had been the emotions that had made him aware of the full extent of his expectations and prospects as he suddenly imagined, for the first time in his whole life, that one day perhaps he might see a similar gaze and feel an even greater warmth while looking at a son of his…

And, thus, he continued his reminiscences, dedicating a last thought to the day that had carried him to the current one.

_On that occasion - not long before they had had definitive evidence that the implants were functioning correctly - __at the end of a day that had turned out to be more tiring than usual and after a stupid quarrel regarding the flaws in their research, followed by a long, awkward silence, Hermione had whispered:_

"_It's not easy, you know, to be even more stubborn than I usually am... "_

_He had smiled, once again acknowledging her honesty, suddenly forgetting the academic side of their discussion and the recent failures of their experiments._

"_Of course I know" he had commented, and even if a little sarcasm was still present in his tone, he knew that she would understand that his reply wasn't referring only to her._

_But, before he could openly share this awareness, she had looked into his tired eyes and continued, softly._

"_This has always been my worst side… I wonder… are you really sure that I'm quite right for you?" she had ended, blushing, and since her eyes were lowered she hadn't caught the surprised reaction that he had been able to conceal only after a few moments._

"_Hermione, what on earth…" he had started answering, still stunned. He had never even begun to suppose that she could feel… inadequate? Compared to him?_

_A few reassuring words, some caresses and several kisses later they had felt ready to start again. If they could survive not just the great challenges of life, but silly disagreements like this, well, then perhaps everything really would be all right, as they were murmuring to each other before resuming their task._

"_I'm sure that we are very close to the definitive solution for the implants and the potion" she had said after a while, giving voice to their shared reaffirmed will._

"_And after that it will be about time to put an end to all other uncertainties" he had concluded, toying with the ring on her finger and looking intensely into her eyes._

"_You don't have to make vows about that, not to me, Severus," Hermione had answered, now able again to put her trust into words._

"_That's what will make the promises worth the commitment, then," he had declared, sealing the moment and the date_.

He still couldn't know how long what he had won would last, not after everything he had lived through, but it was about time to give hostages to fortune and to feel finally worthy of them.

Sending a last glance to his reflection in the mirror, he smiled, knowing that his was no longer the incredulous, fearful, tentative grimace of a man seeking the impossible. Then, after a slight nod to himself, he turned on his heels and went out, towards the happiness that was no longer promised only by dreams.

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_A.N. It was a challenge to go on writing this further sequel and to write about__ an almost established relationship… but the input given to me by my friend _Whitehound_ about the tale of Severus's care for the unfortunate students seemed to have interesting possibilities to be developed, and I've enjoyed the writing of it… Hoping readers, too, enjoyed the reading!_

_The section breaks are borrowed, as in the previous stories that form this little series, from: www. whitehound. co. uk/Fanfic/ffn_how-to. htm (remember to remove the spaces after the dots)._


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